HIGH STRANGENESS-Tales of the Macabre

HIGH STRANGENESS

TALES OF THE MACABRE

BY

BILLIE SUE MOSIMAN

Copyright Billie Sue Mosiman 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form, including digital,
electronic, or mechanical, to include photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author(s), except for brief quotes used in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. All characters,
names, places, and incidents are products of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Carnival Freak

A Rip in Time

Frankenstein: Return from the Wasteland

CARNIVAL FREAK

by

Billie Sue Mosiman

Copyright Billie Sue Mosiman 2012

The sideshow audience was full and well spent. There had been so many acts and exhibits that horrified, thrilled, and awed that they were as emotionally limp as wet laundry. When the show wound down and was about to end, out walked the announcer who had c
h
anged from his carny clothes of striped pants and checked vest into a black tuxedo, white pleated shirt, and black bow tie. He carried a top hat, sweeping it below his knees as he bowed and the audience applauded the show's success. Then, he stood erect,
d
onned the ridiculous hat, and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, that was our spectacular show and we want to thank you for your diligent attention..."

Audience members began to gather purses and stuffed animals won on the midway, bags of peanuts and half-eaten
hotdogs. They prepared to rise to their feet and struggle from the makeshift folding seats to the sawdust covered center aisle.

"...but I require you to remain where you are just another minute, if you don't mind. We have one more exhibit to offer those of
you intrepid enough to indulge your deepest fears. For the price of another single admission price, we will show you something the world has never witnessed. Science denies its existence. This is our secret freak, our Freak of Freaks, our ultimate show t
h
at few have ever dared lay eyes on, ladies and gentlemen!"

Now the audience was riveted to the seats, all scuffling silenced, all movement to leave abandoned. They gaped at the well-dressed announcer, blinking with some confusion.

"I offer you a tour down
this narrow hallway to see behind a glass enclosure, close enough for you to touch, only inches away from this freakiest of freaks the world has ever seen, just for one more admission price, just for a single fiver. I can
’
t reveal what you will see becau
s
e I cannot share that with this entire audience. I
can
tell you, however, that if you desire to see with your very own eyes something so astounding, so singularly disturbing, so world-shattering as what we have waiting, then I urge you to take this final,
this glorious, and never-seen-by-the-eyes-of-man, tour."

He paused theatrically, looking around the rows of seats all the way to the back of the tent, from the right and then from the left. He took off his top hat and held out his arm, indicating a directi
on. "Just down this hallway! Not for the faint of spirit! If you have a bad heart, please do not take this tour. We cannot be held responsible for fainting or any harm caused to the nervous system. If you want to see a Wonder of the Unnatural World, I ask
you to
step right up
."

He strode from the raised stage and down the four wooden steps to the sawdust floor to stand in front of his captive assemblage. "Only the bravest should take me up on this offer! Will the rest of you please exit the tent and we than
k you for your patience, and hope you enjoyed the sideshow."

He stood waiting, eying the crowd as it rose, almost as one body, and began to flood into the center aisle. In the front row, his gaze fell on a woman clutching her purse to her bosom. She came f
orward, her head thrust out, her eyes narrowed. "A true, real freak?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am, a true, real freak. Nothing you will ever see anywhere else, I guarantee."

She lowered her purse, snapped it open and handed him a five. "I want to see," she said.

"Of course!" He took the money and grinned devilishly. He pointed her to a side flap. "Just that way," he said. "Wait at the flap until you're instructed to enter."

Behind her waited a dapper little man in a brown suit. "I want to go in, too."

The annou
ncer took his bill, and asked him to wait with the first woman.

From out of the crowd milling to the exit, another man, this one with hard, flinty eyes, came forward holding out money. "Thank you, sir, you've made a wise choice! Please get in line."

A thir
d man separated himself from the exiting mob, pushing out with his hands to get back to the stage front. He asked, "You say this is worth it? It's better than the bearded lady and the alligator man?"

"Absolutely, sir! Worth every single penny."

"I'll be ba
ck to complain if that's a lie," the man said. He was tall, thin, with a pencil mustache. He looked well-heeled and not the sort who went in for freak shows, but those were the ones the announcer sometimes expected to see interested most in the extra show.
"You won't be disappointed, sir. Please join the line for your turn."

The tent was almost empty. At the end of the first row a young woman sat, watching, scowling. The announcer cocked his head, staring at her quizzically. "Are you of an age?" he asked.

The young woman stood and she was tall and full of sharp angles. Her elbows stuck out of her shirt, her chest was bony beneath a white lacy blouse, and her legs were stick-like. She was money, old money at that, if the announcer was asked to guess. Her ha
i
r was professionally groomed, pulled back from her face in a blond chignon held with a pearl comb. She wore two rings on each hand, all four glittering of gold and sparkling with faceted jewels. She carried a leather bag on her shoulder and wore elegant b
l
ack flats. She didn't look as if she should even be in the tent, but there was a reason--there was always a reason.

"I'm old enough to see anything you've got back there," she said.

"And how old is that, m
’
lady?"

She had reached him and the tent was emptie
d except for the small group waiting at the side flap. Her voice was silky and sophisticated as she handed him a five dollar bill and said, "Old enough, I told you already, now take the money and let me see what you think you've got."

He bowed to her, took
the bill, and gestured her to get in line. Once he was sure there would be no other patrons, he joined the little group to instruct them. "One at a time, please. My assistant will come to the flap and let you know when it's your turn. Be patient. We allo
w
everyone all the time necessary to examine this extraordinary exhibit and I assure you it's going to be worth it. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and have a wonderful time!"

He left them standing, disappearing behind the curtains at the back of the stage
. The five people who had paid to see the super freak stood looking anywhere but at one another. It was as if they were in partnership to do something unmentionable, something for which they hoped to remain anonymous.

They waited.

#

The first woman to ente
r behind the flap found the narrow hallway created by tent fabric claustrophobic and the light much too dim. She moved slowly, reaching out to each side of her, squinting ahead. She could see a brighter light further on and began to hurry. As soon as she
r
eached the beginning of the glass wall, she halted and gasped.

A bright overhead light shown down on a very fine looking man with shiny brown hair, dressed in a gray suit and light blue shirt. He gave her a winning smile.

She thought she would faint. From
the shoulder of the man sprouted a second head, this one looking somewhat similar to the smiling man except that this head lolled on the shoulder, eyes closed, mouth agape, hair thinning and in disarray.

"God," the woman breathed.

"Hello, dear. So happy
you've come to see me."

And me.

She had stepped a few feet closer to the glass, centering herself before the two-headed freak. She now glanced around because there was a second voice, but she had no idea where it had originated.

"What?" Her voice was a squ
eak and she could feel her heart booming in her chest.

"I said, hello, happy you're here," said the smiling head.

And me. I am the not-so-pretty head. I have other talents that make up for my grotesque appearance. You are hearing me in your head.

"WHAT?" T
he squeak was nearly a roar. She began to shake and her legs felt rubbery. Was the lolling dead head
speaking
to her?

Of course I am, you silly woman. Now let's get down to the grit of you because we have so little time. I can tell you are a Black Widow.

T
he woman began to back from the window.

The smiling head said, reaching out elegant hands toward the glass, "Oh, come now, and don
’
t be afraid. He can't get to you. You're safe beyond this glass, dear. Don't go before the secrets are told!"

"He's...he's...
talking to me?"

"Oh yes, he is, dear. It's the only way he can speak at all. Now listen...if you really dare."

You are the freak. You're on your third identity and third husband. You poisoned the first two and will poison this one as well. The insurance mo
ney is so tempting, isn't it? You think I'm the freak, you think WE are the freaks. You are the freak, Mrs. Goffried. You actually like committing murder. It thrills you. That's the real secret you hide deep in your soul. You LIKE killing.

"Dear Lord." The
woman backed away until she hit a tent pole behind the opposite wall of fabric in the hallway.

You will never meet the Lord. He has no use for the likes of you. Your soul is a pit, Mrs. Goffried, and it's so dark down there you don't even know there are
snakes writhing and rats running through your veins.

"How do you know all this?" Now she was shrieking, but it was so high-pitched it was almost a whistle lingering in the air, leaving behind the memory of words.

"He knows everything, doesn't he?"
The smiling head grinned wider and began to look as freakish as the lolling, slobbering dead head. "He knows you down to the bone, dear. He's showing you the freak inside. Isn't it beautiful?"